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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27419986">To Turn The World On It's Head</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenclaw_Peredhel/pseuds/Ravenclaw_Peredhel'>Ravenclaw_Peredhel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>If I Should Fall [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aragorn is sorry for what he put Elrond through, Aragorn knew who he was as a child, Arwen is fucking terrifying when it comes to her kids, As his foster father, Because Aragorn's dad died, Because of Reasons, But the Gondorim are snobs, Elladan and Elrohir are pranksters, Elrond gave him a father name, Elrond is a brilliant grandparent, Elrond is still in Middle Earth, Erestor is so done, F/M, Gen, Gil-galad Son of Plothole, Gondor is very rulebound, Gondor meets Arnor, Halbarad lives, He is sure he wasn't as bad as his kids though, He's the only sane member of Aragorn's family, Merenel is sad, Middle Earth, Most of them are certifiably insane, Parent Aragorn, Parent Arwen, Parent Elrond, Post-Canon, Post-RotK, Protective Elrond, Right?, SO, Stupid Gondorim misinterpreting things, The Arnorim have no time for rules, The two don't get on well, They were too busy not dying, You'll Find Out Why Later, not joking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:00:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,736</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27419986</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenclaw_Peredhel/pseuds/Ravenclaw_Peredhel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aragorn finally returns to Arnor several years after the War of the Ring. With him are his wife and his children along with a host of 'necessary' Gondorim retainers.<br/>Chaos ensues as the strict and rulebound Gondorim clash with the hardy and free Arnorim and their elven allies.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aragorn | Estel/Arwen Undómiel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>If I Should Fall [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023415</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The North...Is Not A Ruin (What!)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/710257">The King Comes Home</a> by Morwen Tindomerel.
        </li>

    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The King's company was travelling blind. Well, it wasn't really, but to the Gondorim they might as well be. Their king had taken it into his head to go North and had taken his wife and twin daughters with him. The guards that etiquette demanded accompany him had nearly been left behind several times by the eccentric king, who seemed strangely eager to go North. None of the Gondorim could understand this. The North was a broken and ruined land, filled with sad memories and eldritch creatures. Who would want to go there?</p><p>Arnor may have produced both King and Queen, but everyone knew that it was a failing kingdom long before Gondor had even reached its prime - a motley collection of petty kings striving to conquer each other until the Witch King had swept out of the hills and slaughtered them.</p><p>Barahir son of Baranion was very uneasy. He was Captain of the Kingsguard and took his duty very seriously. Allowing the King to just waltz into some unknown land long abandoned by its fickle inhabitants just went against the grain. Who knew what they might find there? However, King, Queen and whatever the Lord Halbarad was were determined. Throughout the entire five month journey, no one had managed to persuade any of the three to even consider returning to Gondor, to safety and as the company were well past the Misty Mountains, there was no longer any point in trying. Most courtiers would have found something to complain about every hour, but King Elessar, Queen Undomiel and Lord Halbarad seemed to positively enjoy the journey, never complaining about short rations or hard ground. On the contrary, they seemed to relish it. Each day they seemed to spot something that one of them knew, and would whisper it to the little Princesses whose eyes grew round and amazed with each new story. The King particularly seemed to be happier with each day he spent on the road - while Barahir was grateful that the royal family didn't find the journey a hardship he wished that the King wouldn't seem to be making a game out of evading his guards.</p><p>Suddenly, the sound of hoofbeats echoed through the thick mist and Barahir's heart sank down into the wet grass beneath his horse's hooves. Great, rain, fog and now this - most likely an ambush by some of the fey creatures that lived in this deserted land. "Wait here your majesties, it may not be safe.." Unfortunately, neither listened to him. In fact, they exchanged excited glances and dismounted, before taking the twins and walking forward unconcernedly. "Your majesties! There is an unknown number of unknown beings coming towards us." Barahir never raised his voice - it was trained into the Gondorim at a young age, but the King and Queen were very close to causing him to yell for the first time since his boyhood as he quickly jumped down and ran forward to the sovereigns.</p><p>The Queen merely laughed and stopped, cocking her head at her husband. "Vennonya, if you will?"  Her voice was mischevious and, if the look that she exchanged with the King was anything to go by, there was something odd going on. Barahir dropped his hand to his sword hilt.</p><p>The King grinned and spoke in what Barahir thought was Quenya. "<span class="result-text"><em><strong>Ni na Aragorn ion o Arathorn, onna o Imladris. Lom-imli ui-amba</strong></em>." The strange liquid sounds rolled from the King's lips as easily as the Westron he used everyday, as though he had used it often. From the murmurs behind him, he guessed that others also felt the strange prickling run through them at the unknown words. </span></p><p><span class="result-text">A melodic, rippling tenor voice replied in the same odd, powerful, language. "</span><em><strong>Ehtelë quen valatëa al-nai te titta otorno. Sitta sinen al-fasta</strong></em>." Out of the mist came a figure on a grey horse, cloaked in grey. He jumped down and spread his arms. "Surprise." The strange man had long silky black hair, held back by a single braid fastened with a silver clasp, clear piercing light grey eyes and a strange face - beautiful, unearthly.</p><p><span class="result-text">The Queen sprang forwards with a cry of delight, flinging her arms around the stranger who staggered back, his hair swinging back to reveal pointed ears...wait, pointed ears? Barahir spun, noticing the sudden emergence of inhumanly beautiful and graceful beings, clad in bright, finely worked robes and armour of a quality higher than any mortal could make, their deep eyes seeming to pierce through the Men to their very souls. The King was also embracing the man...elf</span> <span class="result-text">, who was smiling and holding them tight. Lord Halbarad held the hands of the Princesses, exchanging greetings with several of the elves. Barahir and the guards placed their hands on their sword hilts, eyeing the elves with suspicion.</span></p><p>
  <span class="result-text">Finally, the King and Queen drew back and beckoned their daughters to them. "Dan, these are Gilraen and Silmarien. Gilraen, Silmarien, this is your uncle Elladan." Barahir and the other guards relaxed at this, still alert, but feeling secure enough to assume that this was not an ambush.  The newly named Elladan smiled brightly at the two girls, kneeling down to be at their level, his voice soft and comfortable, the kind of voice that only came when the person in question had raised or helped to raise at least one child.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="result-text">"Hello little ones. I've wanted to meet you for a long time but your Nana and Ada were very stubborn and wouldn't come. Tell me, have you heard any stories of your great and heroic uncle Elladan?" The four year old princesses giggled and nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="result-text">"We are very pleased to-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="result-text">"Meet you Uncle Elladan. But-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="result-text">"Where is Uncle Elrohir? Nana-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="result-text">"And Ada told us-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="result-text">"About him-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="result-text">"Too." The twins replied in that odd way that they had, one starting a statement, the other continuing it. Only the king, queen and Lord Halbarad could make head or tail of it when the Princesses spoke like that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="result-text">Elladan...Lord Elladan, Barahir corrected himself, threw back his head and laughed, the other elves joining in, the sound clear and pure and otherworldly. The King and the Queen smiled as the twins stared with wide eyes. Elladan sighed and stopped laughing, a mischievious twinkle in his eyes. Or what would have been one had he not been the immortal brother of the High Queen of the Reunited Kingdom. Barahir was certain that he would never do something so indecourus. "Oh we are going to have so much fun little nieces. Ro and I will teach you the ways of the twins." The King and Queen and Lord Halbarad rolled their eyes and shuddered dramatically, much to the horror of their guards. It just was not done to act so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="result-text">"Elladan, I swear if you and Elrohir teach them anything, I will toss you into Mount Orodruin. Gilraen and Silmarien are bad enough as it is." The Queen mock-snapped, wagging her finger at her brother who rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at her. Barahir decided that enough was enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="result-text">"Your majesties, should we not move on. It is not safe to be so exposed." He caught several rolled eyes from the elves and wondered why. Had he stopped to think of the history of the King and Queen whose safety he worried over so, he would have had his answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="result-text">Regardless, the party moved on, the royal family talking and laughing with the elves, slipping between Westron, the unfamiliar Quenya and the more familiar Sindarin with ease, even the princesses, who rode before Lord Elladan. Barahir understood less than one third of the conversation - the Westron and a little Sindarin and it made him uneasy. They rode on and on, never seeming to stop, the landscape an unchanging roiling mass of fog, surroundes by elves. He felt as though he were in one of the stories and shivered a little. </span>
</p><p><span class="result-text">It seemed hours later that the ground suddenly fell away from them, a narrow path winding down the side of the cliff. Barahir was about to call a warning to the King but he, and the rest of his family, had already plunged down the steep path, whooping laughing as their horses made the tight turns. Little did Barahir know that it used to be a popular game between the three children of Elrond and the human fosterlings that came and went to race down the path. It was perfectly safe - Elrond's protections ensured that, but the thrill of riding fast down a winding cliff path was unmatchable. Resignedly, Barahir and the others followed, the elves closing in behind them. Barahir shuddered again. The Grey Company had been terrifying, tall silent figures in grey suddenly appearing from thin air, but then that had been in Gondor, and the Grey Company had left soon after the war.</span> <span class="result-text"> But now Barahir was stuck in the eldritch land of fable, with only two dozen other guards in the domain of the Grey Company. He had never seen elves before - he had been in Lebennin, and so had a nagging feeling that he was missing something vital.</span></p><p>
  <span class="result-text">Then he was jolted out of his thoughts by the change in sound of the hoofbeats and found to his surprise that they were galloping into a courtyard. Not one full of cracks and left to decay like he had expected, but beautiful and looking at once ancient and new. It was in front of a beautiful building. Barahir hesitated to say palace, because it did not seem the right word, but it was large and elegant, seemingly springing out of the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="result-text">All the elves and the royal fanily dismounted, Barahir and the guards following suit. The doors opened, and a beautiful woman came down the steps of the house. She was tall, taller than the King, and very beautiful. Long silvery-blond hair streamed down her back, held away from her face only by an intricate net of braids studded with pearls. Huge eyes, slightly slanted giving her a strange exotic look,  stared out at the company, the same strange colour as the King and Queen and their children, a grey-blue so bright and hot it was almost white, like flames. Barahir almost instinctively took a step back, from this strange eldritch being who glided down the stairs towards them. The King and Queen suddenly cried out with delight again, enveloping the strange elf in another hug. "Aunt Merenel!''</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Vennonya - husband<br/>Ni na Aragorn ion o Arathorn, onna o Imladris. Lom-imli ui-amba-  I am Aragorn son of Arathorn, child of Rivendell. Conceal yourself no longer. (Or that's what it's supposed to mean anyway)<br/>Ehtelë quen valatëa al-nai te titta otorno. Sitta sinen al-fasta - Well someone is pompous aren't they little brother. I'm so disappointed. (Or that's what it's supposed to mean anyway)</p><p>Sídhien - Sindarin -  Daughter of Peace<br/>Ceutariel - Quenya - Renewing Maiden<br/>These are their father names, which are the ones that are less commonly used. Gilraen and Silmarien are their mother names, or the ones that are more everyday.<br/>Sídhien is Gilraen and Ceutariel is Silmarien</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Sooo...Barahir's Still Suspicious</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Barahir hated Rivendell. </p><p>Perhaps hated was too strong, but he was certainly uneasy. The royal family had let down their guard, leaving weapons in their quarters, refusing the food tasters, practically dismissing their guards and otherwise trusting the elves to an almost foolish level. </p><p>They did not seem to understand that the elves could not be trusted. Indeed, the only time that Barahir tried to bring up this fact, they laughed  (laughed! the king and queen should not laugh!) and brushed off his concerns. Their excuse was that the elves were their family. How did they not understand the fickle and dangerous ways of the Elder race?</p><p>The King had decreed that they would wait for the Lord Elrond to return from his hunting trip with the Lord Elrohir before setting out for Annuminas. Which was another problem. Annumnias had been deserted for nearly the entirety of the first age - it was no fit place for a monarch. </p><p>Barahir sighed and continued following the princess Gilraen. Discreetly of course - the guards, while not explicitly forbidden from guarding, had been dismissed from their duties by the King as soon as they reached Rivendell. </p><p>But the elven kingdom was so...different. The buildings seemed to grow from the ground, there were no doors save in the sleeping and bathing chambers, the people (were they even people) were tall and inhumanly perfect, speaking often in the strange alien tongue that was Quenya. He freely admitted that the elves gave him the creeps. They were so perfect and graceful, seemingly unaffected by joy or sorrow or anything, their faces remaining in those impassive masks almost constantly, except around the little princesses. The princesses were constantly indulged and played with and spoiled, their every whim catered to. Which just increased Barahir's suspicion (he refused to call it paranoia). Lord Elladan was the only one Barahir and his men trusted to be in the room with the King and Queen with only one guard. The Lady Merenel on the other hand...</p><p>His first impression of the Lord Elrond's regent had been of some eldritch creature from another time and the past few days spent in Rivendell had not changed it. For all her beauty, she was dangerous. She had a way of looking at him with those blue-white eyes of hers as though she could see his thoughts and his very soul. He had tried to get a backstory on her to asses if she was a threat, but to no avail. None seemed willing to help him, which made him all the more suspicious. That King and Queen loved and trusted her could not be taken into account - only cold hard facts would go into her profile. All that he had on her was that she was a very ancient High Elf, had some distsnt relation to the Lord Elrond and was somehow at least nobility, being Lady Regent when the Lord Elrond was away.</p><p>He cursed inwardly as the exact woman he was thinking of appeared. Damn it. 'Speak of the devil and he shall appear' was never more true than with elves. Particularly this elf. A shiver ran down his spine as he looked at her, feeling the urge to shrink back and hide. She was beautiful, no doubt about it - hair like white gold and silver that streamed in an unbroken sheet almost to the floor; bright blue eyes so light that they were almost like white light themselves; pale flawless skin unbroken by scar or sun-spot; taller than any man Barahir had ever seen; her figure naturally the delicate hourglass curves every Gondorim woman strived for in imitation of the Queen. Her natural colouring was so pale that it was as if she was a ghost, especially when she wore light colours. Today though she wore a silken dress the same dark red as blood, the sleeves of which fell away from her arms in a waterfall of crimson silk, the neckline a low V shape highly indecent by Gondorim standards but perfectly normal by Elven and Arnorim ones; her hair was held back by little braids which were in turn held by silver clips studded with rubies like drops of blood. From the lobes of her ears dangled delicately made earrings in the shape of many rayed stars of silver, studded with tiny tiny rubies. On her ring finger was the same ring that was never removed, no matter what she wore - a delicately wrought thing that wound around her finger in a pattern of silver waves and vines, miniscule rubies and diamonds held within the silver. </p><p>Then he saw tears tracing their way down her cheeks. Elves never cried. Did they? Princess Gilraen launched herself at the Lady and Barahir had to almost physically grab the column he was hiding behind to stop himself intercepting the princess. "Auntie Merenel!" Lady Merenel turned and smiled sadly as she caught the child effortlessly.</p><p>"Do not be so reckless Sidhien." She chided gently. "What if I had been a Warg in disguise and eaten you up for dinner?" Princess Gilraen sighed and crossed her arms, staring up at her 'aunt'.</p><p>"Well you're not. Why are you crying?" Barahir flinched. The tact of a four year old princess, especially this one, was obviously on holiday. The tears in Lady Merenel's eyes welled up again and she brushed them away impatiently with the hand not currently holding Princess Gilraen before giving the Princess a watery smile. </p><p>"It was a long time ago Sidhien, but something happened and it makes me sad sometimes." The Princess got her aunt to set her down and then dragged her to one of the rooms down the corridor, Barahir following silently. The two were not facing him and he slipped inside. He took up a post just inside the room, hidden behind one of the drapes, waiting nervously for the elf to...do something. </p><p>"Sit down auntie." Lady Merenel smiled and sat, before pulling the Princess into her lap.</p><p>"What do you want Sidhien?" </p><p>"Lots auntie. Why do you call me Sidhien?"</p><p>"Because it means 'Child of Peace' penneth. Your father name is a reminder that the Shadow has passed.''</p><p>The statement was followed by silence and the Princess folded her arms again, staring up at the Lady. "That's not what I meant auntie." Lady Merenel pursed her lips, the expression almost human before sighing.</p><p>"As clever as all your forebears Sidhien. I call you by your father name because no one calls me by my father name. When your father is gone, your name will be used by none, for most will use your mother name. I always mourned that no one called me by my father name. If you wish to be known by your mother name completely, tell me."</p><p>The Princess cocked her head to the side before shaking her head. "I like Sidhien. What is your father name auntie? We all call you by your mother name, but I never heard your father name." The Lady Merenel smiled that strange sad smile again.</p><p>"My father name is Telemniel Sidhien, but my mother name is even less known than my father name."</p><p>"Well what is your mother name auntie?"</p><p>"Alassinde. Now if we are quite finished with the interrogation, I do believe your guard is getting nervous." The Lady had almost whispered her mother name, speaking so low that Barahir had barely heard it, before resuming speaking in a brisk voice. Barahir jumped and then came from behind the drapes ashamedly.</p><p>"My apologies Lady Merenel." He was very glad not to stutter, even as his mind raced trying to work out how she had known he was there. "But as Head of the Kingsguard, it is my duty to protect the members of the royal family."</p><p>The Lady Merenel nodded and glided out.</p><p>*******************</p><p>Later that day, a rather sullen Barahir slunk into the huge library of Rivendell, having been rather well reamed by the King and the Queen for spying on a private conversation. Never mind that fact that he was trying to protect the princess in a possibly hostile land. Instead he had been threatened with demotion and a promise that if he continued to behave so he would be packed on a ship for Minas Tirith from the Grey Havens before you could say 'unfair'. No one had even listened to him explaining that the Lady Merenel had completely avoided answering the Princess's question. That she was hiding something.</p><p>So, he was in the library, determined to find out more about the Lady Merenel. He started in the general histories of the First Age, beginning with the Great Journey of the Elves to Aman. Then he moved on to the royal dynasties of the Noldor. Nothing. Maybe the Vanyar? Nothing. But from what he remembered of his studies as a boy, none of the Teleri had come. Well it was worth a try. He turned to the royal family of the Teleri.</p><p>King Olwë Sercecco had married Queen Sindiel Nemmíre. They had had a son - Crown Prince Vinyáro Númenion who married a Telerin commoner named Airehísie Maltariel and a daughter - the Princess Earwen Lindiel who had married the Prince Ingoldo Arafinwë. Then several centuries passed and the queen bore another daughter - Princess Alassinde Telemniel. The Princess had been a surprise, unexpected by all. </p><p>Barahir leaned back and would have whistled had he not remembered that he was in an elvish library. So the mysterious Lady Merenel was the last princess of the Teleri. Some might have ended the search there, satisfied, but not Barahir. He was tenacious, some might say pig-headed, and once he had begun something, he would not end until he had completed it to the bitter end.</p><p>He continued reading. Finally he stopped at a sentence. Read it again. And again. And a third time. Dashed out of the library. His King and Queen were in danger! The wife of a Kinslayer was among them, trusted by them! He must get to them, warn them of the peril they had put themselves into in this terrible eldritch land.</p><p>The book, a rather tatty affair cobbled together from frost-bitten, crackling parchments that now lay abandoned on the table read:</p><p>
  <em>Tintillion sits beside me as I write this, impatient for me to finish my recording before we can visit the new princess. I do believe he regrets persuading his mother to apprentice him to a scribe. There is not much use for a scribe in the frozen hell we are in.</em>
</p><p><em>The Princess Alassindë Telemniel, abandoned wife to Prince Maitimo Nelyafinwë, mother of the young </em> <em>Prince Tintillion Alcarfinwë, bore a daughter this day, though nearly a moon too early. The Princess Laurealasse Wènestel (fathername bestowed by Prince Nolofinwë in the absence of the child's father). Praise Eru that both survived the birth, though Princess Alassinde is much weakened - in the eleven months that we have been upon this terrible ice many ellith have been killed in childbirth. But the Princess Alassindë is strong, and her new daughter equally so. The little princess's birth gives us hope and we struggle on, each day covering a little more distance, straining towards the land that the accursed Fëanor reached through treachery, the fires of vengeance and now hope in our breasts the only warmth we have. </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Is anyone else getting tired of Barahir's insistence on using titles before every single name? Would you like a differemt viewpoint or not? </p><p>Elvish translations:<br/>Merenel - Sindarin - Joyous Star<br/>Telemniel- Quenya - Silver Daughter<br/>Alassinde - Quenya - Joyful Lady<br/>Penneth - it's  a sort of diminutive, like 'little one'<br/>Sercecco - Quenya - Blood Spear (named for his deeds in battle before Oromë came<br/>Nemmíre - Quenya Water Jewel<br/>Sindiel - Quenya - Silver Grey<br/>Vinyáro - Quenya - New Dawn<br/>Airehísie - Quenya - Sea Mist<br/>Lindiel - Quenya - Sweet Sounding Maiden<br/>Númenion - Quenya - Western Son<br/>Maltariel - Quenya - Gold Garlanded Maiden</p><p>Tintilion - Quenya - Shining Son<br/>Alcarfinwë - Quenya - Glorious Finwë<br/>Wènestel - Quenya - New Hope<br/>Laurealasse - Quenya - Golden Joy</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Remembering Those We Have Lost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was supposed to be for remembrance day, but it is very late. Sorry</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Barahir raced through the corridors, cursing the strangeness of the buildings that made it nearly impossible to move through them at speed. Where were the King and Queen? Were they with the kinslayer even now? </p><p>A horn rang out and he started towards it. Was it the signal for some unholy ritual? He shuddered and increased his pace, barely avoiding slammming into a wall at least twice.</p><p>The horn rang out again, and he stumbled into a courtyard. It was the same as that which they had arrived in. A group of humans and elves mingled together stood at the foot of the stairs and Barahir sighed with relief. King, Queen, Princesses, Lord were all there. So was Lord Elladan and some of the younger guards. Then his eyes caught red fabric and silvery-white hair and his heart almost stopped. She was so close to the royal family, who were surrounded on all sides by elves.</p><p>He began to shove his way towards them when he heard horse hooves and whirled around. In rode a column of elves, with a black-haired silver-eyed elf at the front who bore a remarkable resemblance to the Queen and the Lord Elladan. The column came to a halt and the elves dismounted. </p><p>"Are you-"</p><p>"Our Daeradar?" Barahir nearly killed himself of embarassment in that moment. Princesses Gilraen and Silmarien were practically impossible at the best of times, wilful and ill mannered, and their parents merely encouraged them laughingly, saying that it was unhealthy for the soul to be forced to be perfect all the time. Now, the princesses had really done it, being disrespectful and speaking out of turn to the lord of a strange and unfathomable people. </p><p>"I..." The strane Lord stuttered, seemingly at a loss for words. The elves parted, and the royal family was revealed. "Estel, Arwen...what are you-"</p><p>"Doing here? Visiting our favourite Ada of course." Barahir stared. He had always known that the king was eccentric, but this...</p><p>Instead of becoming withdrawn and serene, the Lord's face creased into a very human grin. "Well, I am very pleased to meet my new granddaughters and to see Lord Halbarad again. I reserve judgement on my children however. Now, let me see...you are Sidhien, and you are Ceutariel." The princesses grinned widly and nodded. </p><p>"Yes Daeradar." They chorused and he groaned. </p><p>"Estel, Arwen, what have you done. Sweet Eru, do not have anymore children. For the sake of my sanity at least."</p><p>The King and Queen exchanged glances. "Too late Ada.'' Lord Elrond blinked at them before staring at the Queen. What was he doing? Barahir was galvanised into action by whatever it was. No one would hurt the royal family on his watch. He was halted again by a sort of half-laugh, half-sigh/groan from the Lord Elrond.</p><p>"It will be a pleasure to meet my grandson I am sure, but...don't ever let him within several hundred miles of the twins.''</p><p>**************</p><p>Barahir had still not managed to corner the King and Queen, though it was now evening. They had taken off with some of the elves from the hunting party -Lords Glorfindel, Erestor and Elrohir - and were chattering avidly in Quenya to them. It was most unseemly - they were gesturing and laughing in a way that royalty never should. And the elves were encouraging it! Indeed, responding and teasing them. Barahir was quite sick of this strange place. Plus he was fairly certain that the royal family were avoiding him - how else would they mysteriously manage to not speak with him or even (apparently) see him in the several hours between Lord Elrond's return and the feast?</p><p>The Lord Elrond and the Lady Merenel suddenly caught his attention. Barahir was just beneath a jutting balcony that overlooked the odd celebrationy thing going on. Now Lord Elrond and Lady Merenel came onto the balcony. Lord Elrond had changed his travel-worn garb into fine robes of red decorated with silver, and with the emblem of a many rayed star quite prominently featured. Barahir was glad of the keeness of his hearing. Now he could find out what they were doing. Lord Elrond started to speak, and Barahir concentrated, wanting to remember every word to report to his King and Queen later </p><p>"I'm sorry Nana, I really am. If I had known how long it would take to return I never would have gone so far and left you alone today of all days." What in Arda?</p><p>"Elrond, it's alright. I was not alone. Little Sidhien was a great help, especially with the preparations. Now come, we must begin the ceremony." Lady Merenel began to sing, her voice clear and sweet, though trembling a little. Barahir didn't know the song, and the words sent shivers down his spine. </p><p>
  <em> Fanuilos heryn aglar </em>
  <br/>
  <em> Rîn athar annún-aearath </em>
  <br/>
  <em> Calad ammen i reniar </em>
  <br/>
  <em> Mi 'aladhremmin ennorath!</em>
</p><p>Lord Elrond sang the verse next, his voice tenor, clear and strong, and surprisingly human, Barahir thought. The words still sent uneasy thrills down his back and he stopped his ears, though he could still hear.</p><p>
  <em>Fanuilos heryn aglar<br/>Rîn athar annún-aearath<br/>Calad ammen i reniar<br/>Mi 'aladhremmin ennorath</em>
</p><p> Lord Elrond and Lady Merenel sang the verse again, this time in harmony. </p><p>
  <em>Fanuilos heryn aglar </em>
  <br/>
  <em> Rîn athar annún-aearath </em>
  <br/>
  <em> Calad ammen i reniar </em>
  <br/>
  <em> Mi 'aladhremmin ennorath</em>
</p><p>All the elves in the courtyard joined in next, singing the verse one last time and then three more verses, voices clear and true and heart-achingly lovely. The Royal Family sang as well, to Barahir's surprise. What was this ritual?</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <strong> Fanuilos heryn aglar </strong> </span>
  <br/>
  <span class="u"> <strong> Rîn athar annún-aearath </strong> </span>
  <br/>
  <span class="u"> <strong> Calad ammen i reniar </strong> </span>
  <br/>
  <span class="u"> <strong> Mi 'aladhremmin ennorath! </strong> </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <span class="u"> <strong> A Elbereth Gilthoniel </strong> </span>
  <br/>
  <span class="u"> <strong> I chîn a thûl lin míriel </strong> </span>
  <br/>
  <span class="u"> <strong> Fanuilos le linnathon </strong> </span>
  <br/>
  <span class="u"> <strong> Ne ndor haer thar i aearon </strong> </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <span class="u"> <strong> A elin na gaim eglerib </strong> </span>
  <br/>
  <span class="u"> <strong> Ned în ben-anor trerennin </strong> </span>
  <br/>
  <span class="u"> <strong> Si silivrin ne pherth 'waewib </strong> </span>
  <br/>
  <span class="u"> <strong> Cenim lyth thílyn thuiennin </strong> </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <span class="u"> <strong> A Elbereth Gilthoniel </strong> </span>
  <br/>
  <span class="u"> <strong> Men echenim sí derthiel </strong> </span>
  <br/>
  <span class="u"> <strong> Ne chaered hen nu 'aladhath </strong> </span>
  <br/>
  <span class="u"> <strong> Ngilith or annún-aearath </strong> </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <span class="u"></span>
</p><p>The song floated off into the night, and the melody faded. Lady Merenel bowed her head and then raised it as she began another song, this one in the unfamiliar Quenya, words shivering with the strange power that seemed inherent in the language. The tune was strange and mournful, and Barahir shifted uncomfortably.</p><p>
  <em>Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>yéni unótimë ve rámar aldaron!</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier</em>
  <br/>
  <em>mi oromardi lisse-miruvóreva</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Andúnë pella, Vardo tellumar</em>
  <br/>
  <em>nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni</em>
  <br/>
  <em>ómaryo airetári -lírinen.</em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <em>Sí man i yulma nin enquantuva?</em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <em>An sí Tintallë Varda Oiolossëo</em>
  <br/>
  <em>ve fanyar máryat Elentári ortanë,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>ar ilyë tier undulávë lumbulë;</em>
  <br/>
  <em>ar sindanóriello caita mornië</em>
  <br/>
  <em>i falmalinnar imbë met, ar hísië</em>
  <br/>
  <em>untúpa Calaciryo míri  oialë.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Sí vanwa ná, Rómello vanwa, Valimar!</em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <em>Namárië! Nai hiruvalyë Valimar.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Nai elyë hiruva. Namárië!</em>
</p><p>The haunting voice ceased and Barahir had never been so grateful for something to end. It wasn't that it was unpleasant to hear, on the contrary, Lady Merenel's voice was beautiful, but the grief and pain throbbing through the eerie tune just put him on edge. He shivered slightly. Just what strange ceremony was this?</p><p>Lord Elrond began to speak, and Barahir listened carefully. "On this day near seven thousand years ago, the War of Wrath ended. This day, was the day that Moringotto was defeated and thrown into the Void. Rejoice, oh elves and fathers of men, for this day, we remember the downfall of evil. Rejoice and be glad, for the day has come again. Útulie'n aurë! Aiya Eldalie at atanatari, útulie'n aurë!"</p><p>All the elves and the Royal Family responded with a cry also in Quenya and the words sent a strange and fierce joy through Barahir and his men. "Auta í lómë! Aurë entuluva!" </p><p>"The night has ended, people of the Eldar and Fathers of Men, and day has come again. The Shadow has passed and the night is ended. Rejoice, and celebrate, for evil is ended! A season of peace has begun, and a season of joy. Recall for a little while, the Elder days people of the Eldar and Fathers of Men, for this day, we remember them. The Elder Days are passed, but we remember them. Rejoice, for the days of Darkness are over. The Days of War are over and the Days of Despair are passed, for the Days of Hope are begun. Útulie'n aurë! Aiya Eldalie at atanatari, útulie'n aurë."</p><p>"Auta í lómë! Aurë entuluva!"</p><p>"Rejoice and be glad, but forget not those who have fallen. Through the years of sorrow and war uncounted, the people of the Eldar and the Fathers of Men have lost many. Though the Edain forget, the Eldar remember. Útulie'n aurë! Aiya Eldalie at atanatari, útulie'n aurë" </p><p>The elves repeated the strange, fierce battle cry again, and Barahir had a brief glimpse of these strange people, clad in bright armour with many banners, battling against the Darkness in years before the fathers of the Fathers of Men awoke, fair and desperate and terrible. "Auta í lómë! Aurë entuluva!"</p><p>"Indeed, the days of Darkness are passed, but many have perished so that we may see it. The great Houses of Ages past are gone, and only memories remain. Forget not the House of Fingolfin, Fingolfin the Steadfast, Fingon the Valiant, Turgon the Wise and Aredhel Ar-Feiniel. Forget not those of the House of Finarfin, Finrod Felagund Friend of Men, Orodreth of Nargothrond, Angrod and Aegnor the Mighty. Forget not the House of Thingol, Elu Thingol, Luthien Tinuviel, Dior the Fair, Elured and Elurin the Young.  Útulie'n aurë! Aiya Eldalie at atanatari, útulie'n aurë"</p><p>"Auta í lómë! Aurë entuluva!"</p><p>"Forget not the Lords of the Eldar, Edrahil, Gwindor, Guilin, Egalmoth, Rog, Ecthelion, Mablung, Beleg and all those of the Eldar who fell. Forget not the Teleri whose blood stained the water of their own harbour. Forget not the Eldar who suffered and died beneath the Dark One's cruel hand. Útulie'n aurë! Aiya Eldalie at atanatari, útulie'n aurë"</p><p>"Auta í lómë! Aurë entuluva!"</p><p>''Not only the Eldar suffered beneath the hand of Moringotto. Though the Edain forget, the Eldar remember the Lords of the Fathers of Men. Forget not, oh people of the Eldar and Fathers of Men, Beor and Beren, Hurin Thalion and his son and daughters Turin, Urwen and Nienor. Forget not Huor and Tuor, from whom came the Hope of all Free Peoples. Forget not Bor the Faithful and his sons, Borlach, Borlang and Borthand. Remember the Edain oh Eldar, who spent their brief lives in battle against the Shadow, and honour their bravery. Forget them not. Útulie'n aurë! Aiya Eldalie at atanatari, útulie'n aurë. "</p><p>"Auta í lómë! Aurë entuluva!"</p><p>Lady Merenel stepped to the front of the balcony. "Though it is stained with the blood of the innocent and the sin of the deeds of it's members, forget not the House of Fëanor. Forget not Fëanor, Maedhros the Tall, Maglor the Singer, Celegorm the Fair, Caranthir the Dark, Curufin the Crafty and the Ambarrussar, though you may not forgive them, remember them. Forget not those you loved, Celebrimbor the Good, Morwen the Kind and Gil-Galad the Great." She took a breath, and Barahir was startled to see more tears running down her cheeks. "Remember them, those whom you loved. Whom you cherished. And do not curse the names of those you did not. Tonight is the night that the might of Angband was overthrown. Do not cloud this night with your petty hatreds and long held grudges, but lay them aside for tonight. <span>Útulie'n aurë! Aiya Eldalie at atanatari, útulie'n aurë"</span></p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <span>Auta í lómë! Aurë entuluva!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Lord Elrond and Lady Merenel turned to a paper lantern with the familiar swooping lines of the elven script on it, though he could not read the words. They busied themselves about the delicate lamp, and then a bright white flame suddenly appeared. Lord Elrond took the lantern and gently lifted it into the air, giving it a little push upwards. It floated up, up, up becoming little more than a white speck. A murmuring arose from the crowd of elves and Barahir placed his hand on his hidden dagger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The King and Queen were also speaking, and Barahir tried to see or hear what different elves were saying. He thought they might be names. Gil-Galad, Celebrimbor, Thingol, Beren, Egalmoth and many more</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slipped away. Who understood elves. Barahir would leave them to their strange rituals, escape their magic and monitor the Royal Family as well as his guards. He at least, knew his duty. To protect the Royal Family at any costs from threat, and he meant to fulfil it to the best of his ability.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Elrond calls Merenel Nana because she helped raise him and Elros and is more of a mother to him than Elwing who he has never met. Similarly Maedhros is Ada while Earendil and Elwing would probably be Naneth and Atarinya. Elrond's children don't call Merenel Daernana because it was too complicated for them to understand when they were little and Aunt Merenel just stuck lol. Also, she is Galadriel's aunt, so their great-great-aunt or something ridiculous like that.</p><p>The song that they all sing, I think it's in Sindarin:</p><p>Snow White! Snow White! O Lady clear!</p><p>O Queen beyond the Western Seas!</p><p>O Light to us that wander there</p><p>Amid the world of woven trees!</p><p>Gilthoniel! O Elbereth!</p><p>Clear are thy eyes and bright is breath,</p><p>Snow-white! Snow-white! We sing to thee</p><p>In a far land beyond the Sea!</p><p>O Stars that in the Sunless Year</p><p>With shining hand by thee were sown,</p><p>In windy fields now bright and clear</p><p>We see your silver blossom blown!</p><p>O Elbereth Gilthoniel!</p><p>We still remember, we who dwell</p><p>In this far land beneath the trees,</p><p>Thy starlight on the Western Seas</p><p> </p><p>Song translation of the one that Merenel sings (song is Galadriel's lament, Quenya) :<br/>Ah! like gold fall the leaves in the wind,<br/>long years numberless as the wings of trees!<br/>The years have passed like swift draughts<br/>of the sweet mead in lofty halls beyond the West,<br/>beneath the blue vaults of Varda<br/>wherein the stars tremble in the song of her voice, holy and queenly.</p><p>Who now shall refill the cup for me?</p><p>For now the Kindler, Varda, the Queen of the Stars,<br/>from Mount Everwhite has uplifted her hands like clouds,<br/>and all paths are drowned deep in shadow;<br/>and out of a grey country darkness<br/>lies on the foaming waves between us,<br/>and mist covers the jewels of Calacirya for ever.<br/>Now lost, lost to those from the East is Valimar!</p><p>Farewell! Maybe thou shalt find Valimar.<br/>Maybe even thou shalt find it. Farewell!</p><p>I headcanon that Maglor wrote this one day when he regretted what he'd done particularly badly. Now all the House of Finwë sing it, as a sort of way to remember those who they have a lost.<br/>Elves have a sort of remembrance service on the day that Thangorodrim fell, just because. They use the battle cry of the Nirnaeth as their thing. You know how we use 'we will remember them' on Remembrance day? Well, elves use their battle cry from the Nirnaeth.</p><p>Útulie'n aurë! Aiya Eldalie at atanatari, útulie'n aurë!"The day has come! Behold, people of the Eldar and Fathers of Men, the day has come!" </p><p>"Auta í lómë! Aurë entuluva!" - Night is passing. Day shall come again</p><p> </p><p>Also, just to clarify as I had a comment on another story a few days ago that said that my characters struggles were fake and unrelatable and she was too perfect, Merenel is an elf. Therfore, by human standards she is going to be 'perfect' as in inhumanly good at stuff. She's not human.<br/>Just saying this before I get another comment like that.</p>
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